Having caused an unexpected spectacle and knowing we'd likely be the talk of the city for weeks, Cerys grabbed my wrist and ran, dragging me behind her with shocking speed. I barely kept up, stumbling a few times as her grip was ironclad. Despite the embarrassment, I couldn't help but laugh internally. Being pulled along by her was exhilarating.
We didn't stop running until the bustling noise of the Silver Steps Plaza faded into the background, replaced by the sounds of a quieter district near the colosseum. The air was heavy with the distant roar of cheers and the clang of weapons, and the faint scent of metal and stone lingered. We found ourselves near a shaded grove of trees lining a small, open courtyard.
I leaned against a tree, panting, while Cerys bent over with her hands on her knees, catching her breath. For all her speed and endurance, even she seemed winded. I couldn't help but grin, though my chest was heaving. I didn't care how far we'd run—it was worth it.
Then, suddenly, she turned on me. Before I could react, she grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked me forward. My breath hitched as my heart started pounding in my chest. She was so close. Her piercing green eyes bore into mine, leaving me completely frozen.
"What the hell were you thinking?" she demanded, her voice a mix of frustration and disbelief.
"I..." I fumbled, my gaze shifting briefly to the side before returning to her intense stare. "I don't know. I was just telling you how I feel..."
She groaned and let go of my shirt, stepping back slightly. "You do realize we're probably the hottest gossip in the city right now, right? The Crimson Blade caught holding hands with some boy in public? They'll be talking about this for weeks."
"Sorry," I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck.
She sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. "What about the princess?"
"What about her?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"You..." She paused, her words faltering, then shook her head. "Forget it."
I tilted my head, trying to make sense of her reaction. "So, are you still coming with me later?" I asked softly, taking a small step closer.
Her green eyes widened slightly. "Too close!" she yelped, shoving her hand against my face to push me back.
I chuckled, prying her hand away gently. "You're the one who got close first."
"Shut up," she retorted quickly, her face slightly red. "And I... I don't know. I...—"
I stepped closer again, instinctively, and she took a step back. Her movements faltered as her back hit a nearby tree, and she almost stumbled, but I caught her around the waist before she could fall. My hand on her waist steadied her, and her hand briefly clutched my arm. For a moment, neither of us moved.
Her breath hitched as I leaned slightly closer, and our faces were so near that I could feel the faint warmth of her breath against my skin.
"Please... I want to get to know you," I murmured.
Her gaze dropped, and she whispered, "We just met yesterday."
"I don't care."
She looked up at me then, her green eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of vulnerability there. "Aren't you scared? Of me? Of my father?" she asked quietly.
"I am," I admitted, my voice soft but steady.
"Then why?" she pressed.
"Because..." I hesitated, then said firmly, "I don't know. I just want to get to know you. I know it's stupid, because I'm just a farmer—"
"Don't," she interrupted sharply. "You're not just that. That doesn't define you."
She sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. Her gaze softened, though her cheeks were flushed. "You know I'm going to be your teacher, right?"
"Yeah," I said simply.
She groaned again, clearly torn, before crossing her arms. "Fine. But this doesn't mean anything, okay?"
"Okay," I said quickly, though I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips.
She narrowed her eyes but smirked slightly as she bent down to pick up her bags. "Help me carry these then. If you're so interested in me, you should at least treat me appropriately."
I grinned and leaned in slightly. "Maybe I'll just carry you instead."
She flushed red again, her mouth slightly agape, before she smirked and shot back, "Yeah, try that, and my dad will probably kill you."
I laughed nervously. "Right. I guess I better not, then."
**
Cerys' house was simple yet cozy, a reflection of her practical nature. The exterior was modest, with sturdy stone walls and dark wooden accents that hinted at both durability and warmth. Inside, the decor was minimal but functional—no extravagant decorations or gilded furniture, just well-made wooden chairs, shelves lined with books, and a small fireplace with a neatly stacked pile of firewood beside it. The only personal touches were a few well-worn training weapons mounted on the wall, and a framed map of the kingdom hanging near the hearth, corners worn from frequent use. It wasn't a noblewoman's lavish home; it was a warrior's sanctuary.
I sat in the small but comfortable living area, sipping from a mug of something called emberfruit tea. The drink was sweet yet robust, with a deep, smoky flavor that left a pleasant warmth in my chest. It was a simple pleasure, like the house itself—practical but enjoyable.
Cerys had gone to shower, claiming she stank from the day's exertions. Frankly, she didn't stink at all; she smelled faintly of something like freshly lit candles mixed with the soft tang of smoldering embers—a warm and oddly comforting scent. But apparently, that wasn't good enough for her.
The sound of running water echoed faintly from the bathroom, and my mind began to wander where it shouldn't. I imagined her there, hair wet, steam rising around her. My face heated up instantly, and I jumped to my feet, pacing around the room in an effort to shake the thoughts from my head.
What's wrong with you, Caelan? Focus!
As I paced, I took in more details of her home. My eyes fell on the training weapons displayed on the wall—an assortment of swords, daggers, and polearms, each well-used but meticulously maintained. I noticed a particular blade that looked different from the rest: a short, slightly curved sword with an ornate hilt that didn't seem to fit Cerys' usual no-nonsense style. The blade shimmered faintly in the light, suggesting it might be enchanted. Perhaps it had sentimental value?
Nearby, a small table caught my attention. On it sat an open journal, the edges of its pages marked with wear. I resisted the urge to peek, instead shifting my focus to a small plant in the corner of the room—a rare skyvine fern, its silvery leaves catching the light in an almost ethereal way. It was unexpected in a house like this, and I couldn't help but wonder if it held some special significance to her.
**
Eventually, the sound of water ceased, leaving only the faint crackle of the fireplace and the ticking of a small clock on the mantle. I leaned back in the chair, taking another sip of the emberfruit tea and allowing the warmth to soothe my nerves. The sweet, smoky flavor lingered on my tongue as I tried to focus on anything but the anticipation of her reappearance.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity—though it was probably just an hour—Cerys stepped out, and my jaw nearly hit the floor. She was wearing a simple but elegant sleeveless tunic made of soft, light fabric that flowed gently as she walked. The dark green color complemented her fiery red hair, which was still damp and falling in loose waves over her shoulders. The tunic was cinched at the waist with a thin leather belt, accentuating her athletic build without being overly revealing.
Her usual armor and battle-ready demeanor were absent, replaced by something softer yet no less striking. She looked like someone who belonged in the tranquil beauty of her home rather than on a bloody battlefield. She had paired the tunic with fitted leggings and simple leather sandals, practical but surprisingly graceful.
Her skin had a faint, dewy glow, likely from the warm shower, and her emerald green eyes seemed brighter, reflecting the light in the room. She looked... radiant, a mix of strength and an understated elegance that left me momentarily speechless.
"What?" she asked, raising an eyebrow as she caught me staring.
"I'm happy," I simply said, my voice calm but sincere.
Cerys blushed, her cheeks taking on a hue that rivaled her fiery hair. She rolled her eyes, trying to brush it off. "Stop talking," she admonished lightly, though her tone lacked any real bite.
"Come on, let's go," she added, walking ahead briskly. I followed, matching her pace, though she seemed intent on putting some distance between us. Her movements were quick and deliberate, but I wasn't about to let her slip away. Determined, I hurried my steps to catch up, the faint scent of her drifting back toward me. She smelled like the woods after a rainstorm, fresh and earthy with a hint of amber, warm and subtly intoxicating.
After a while, she slowed her pace, perhaps realizing that I wasn't giving up so easily. Her shoulders relaxed slightly, though her gaze remained averted, her fiery hair hiding part of her face.
"I don't know what to think about you," she said quietly, almost to herself. "It's too sudden."
I said nothing, offering only a small, understanding smile.
She stopped walking and turned to me, her expression conflicted. "What do you want from me?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly. "I don't know what to do... I'm flustered. And I... I haven't been in anything like this before," she confessed, the words spilling out in a rush.
"I only want to know you," I replied, my voice gentle but unwavering.
She looked at me, her green eyes wide and brimming with uncertainty. "Stop... stop looking at me like that," she muttered, her voice cracking slightly. She fidgeted, breaking eye contact before looking back at me. "Your eyes... they look at me with such intensity, such... I don't even know how to explain it. It feels dangerous... just stop it," she rambled, her hands clenching at her sides as if trying to steady herself.
I opened my mouth to say something, but she cut me off. "Let me think... just... let's go over there," she said abruptly, pointing toward the towering coliseum in the distance.
"Okay," I agreed, following her lead without question.
We walked in silence for a few minutes, the tension between us palpable yet unspoken. The faint hum of the city buzzed around us, but neither of us seemed to notice.
Finally, I broke the quiet. "It's my first time too... being in something like this," I admitted softly.
Her head whipped toward me, her green eyes narrowing in disbelief. "Liar," she accused, though her voice was tinged with amusement.
I smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of my neck. "It's true."
Her lips quirked into a faint, teasing smile, and she punched me lightly on the shoulder, her face bright red. "Shut up," she muttered, flustered but without any real anger. And just like that, the tension between us eased, replaced by a tentative warmth as we continued walking toward the coliseum.